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Eyes Wide Open (The Blackstone Affair 3)

Page 21

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I shot her a look and discerned something in her expression. Not sure what, but I knew suspicious in my sister when I saw it. Her mind was busy.

“What does that cryptic comment mean?”

“You and Brynne.” She shook her head a little. “This is really serious isn’t it? I’ve never seen you like this.”

I looked out at the sea with its millions of reflecting ripples and adjusted my sunglasses. “I want to marry her.”

“I thought so . . . Well, I guessed you were heading there with her. Talking to her this morning pretty much confirmed it, and then today when she needed a nap I started putting it all together.”

What does Brynne having a nap have to do with anything? “So you approve?” I asked.

Hannah looked at me curiously. “Approve of you and Brynne getting married? Of course we support you. I want you to be happy and if you love her and she loves you . . . well then, it’s meant to be.” She reached for my hand over the table. “It happens that way sometimes. Nobody’s perfect. Fred and I started out the same way, E, and I wouldn’t change a thing about us or when the babies came. They are a blessing.”

I picked up her hand and kissed it. “They really are, and someday maybe, but a family is not anywhere in the equation right now. I’m just trying to get her used to the idea of getting shackled first.”

Hannah looked relieved. “Oh, good. I like her even more now. I must admit I was worried you might be trapped into it and I hated to think of that for you, little brother. I’m glad for you if it’s something you want.”

I snorted. “Right . . . she’s the one that needs trapping. Brynne’s hard to pin down and having a relationship is scary for her. I’ll be lucky to get her to the altar in a year from now. I’m trying to convince her that a long engagement will work best.”

Hannah nodded slowly like she was absorbing it. “So you’ll wait until after to have the wedding? That’s one option, but Dad’s going to hate it. Remember how he was when Freddy and I jumped the gun with Jordan. Dad had us married within a month.” She mocked my father’s words at the time, “ ‘No grandchild of mine will be born a bastard! Your poor mother would be heartbroken if she were here to see—’ ”

“What?!” I gaped at her. “Brynne’s not . . . I mean, you’re greatly mistaken if that’s what you’re suggesting.” I glared at Hannah, shocked at her speculations. “You thought . . .” I shook my head vigorously. “No, Han! My girl is not preggers. No way. She’s been very careful with her pills. I see her take them every morning. Hell, I’m sure I heard her in the bathroom this morning getting her pills.”

Hannah shook her head slowly at me, her gray eyes looking sympathetic and strangely wise, but even so, I wasn’t buying it.

“You think she’s pregnant? And that’s why I want to marry her?” I was truly shocked and more than a little insulted that my sister would imagine us so irresponsible. “You couldn’t be more off the mark, Han. God! O ye of little faith,” I said scornfully, reaching for my coffee.

“Maybe you two should talk to Freddy, then,” she said, “because I would bet my house that Brynne is very preggers and that the two of you are going to be parents whether you like it or not.”

I choked on my coffee, startling the dog, who banged into the small table and made it rattle on the cobbled patio.

Hannah looked down at Zara, who for all intents and purposes appeared to be listening to every word of our conversation. “Be a love and take Rags over to the grass for a roll around, okay?”

Zara pondered for a moment before deciding that battling her mum was a no-win and left with Rags as requested, melting ice cream in hand.

My heart rate sped up instantly and I felt fear coupled with anxiety and excitement all at once. “We’re not talking to Freddy—wait just one goddamn minute, Hannah! What the fucking hell?! I want to know just what makes you willing to bet your magnificent house that she is.” I was shouting now. “Tell me!” I dragged my hand over my beard, feeling a sweat break out as I glared at my sister and waited for her to shake off her misguided attempt at a joke.

Hannah looked around the courtyard area of the sweets shop and smiled pleasantly at a few of the other patrons who were now staring rudely at us. “Ease up, brother. How about we take a walk instead.” She gathered her shopping bags and stood up, offering me a patient look that spelled out clearly, Listen to your big sister, you enormous arsehole.

I thought about leaving my sister and niece, both of them right there in the village center, running back to the house to get Brynne, putting her in the Rover and driving back to London. We could get away from here and pretend this was all some weird, impossible dream or misunderstanding. I seriously did. For about five seconds.

I somehow got to my feet despite the sudden weakness in my knees, picked up my purchase from an earlier stop at an antiques shop, and followed my sister instead.

“How late is she?” Hannah asked as we walked.

“Late? Fuck, I don’t know about this stuff! She said the pills she takes makes her periods skip out sometimes.”

“Ahh, so she wouldn’t know if she was late. Makes sense. She told me all about being sick last night. Said you had to pull over on the side of the road. She also mentioned being lightheaded last night as well.”

“Yeah, so?” I said defensively. “Maybe it was something she ate.”

Hannah bumped me in the shoulder. “Stop being an arse. I’ve had three children, E, I know the symptoms of pregnancy and my husband is a doctor. I know what I’m talking about.”

I felt a line of sweat trickle down my back. “But . . . this can’t be possible.”

“Oh, stop moaning and tell me facts. I assure you it can be very possible. What happened when Brynne felt lightheaded?”

“She had to sit down and said she was thirsty.”



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